Hope for a Nation
by Saya-Sama
Summary: Today his people are praying for him, so he in turn will pray for them. America, very obviously religious.


**Originally posted on May 7th, which is the National Day of Prayer. I really, really wanted to do something for it, just because it doesn't seem to be something a lot of people know about, which is just an outright shame, I think. I'm a nondenominational Christian, so I know very little about what more organized denominations do while praying, if they do anything particularly special at all. Sorry ahead of time for offending anyone.**

His head was bent, his eyes closed, his hands folded in his lap. The clock had just struck noon and he could feel his people coming together for his sake. It's an indescribable feeling that makes him so painfully grateful for them, for people who still cared enough to take a half hour of their time and pray for him.

So in return, America sat by an open window, feeling the sun, however weak it was on his face. The nation would pray for those who prayed for him—and the ones who didn't, too, because he still loved them all the same.

_Father in Heaven, _

_We lift our eyes toward Your Throne, where You reign in righteousness. _

How many times had Alfred looked to the skies, the beautiful blue expanse he'd been so blessed with, looking for God in the clouds? Perhaps he'd never see God no matter how long he looked, but one didn't need to see to believe. He didn't need to see His throne to know who truly reigned over him.

_Your Word assures us that when Your people cry out in sincerity and humility, You will never turn a deaf ear to us._

_We call upon You now, seeking Your forgiveness and favor._

Never a deaf ear, not even now when so many people doubted. As long as there was even one person willing to pray, God would hear it. Be it out loud in a church or quietly in one's head before bed, he would always hear. It was a comforting thought to Alfred, especially in these troubled times.

_Look over this fevered landscape and heal us, Lord. _

_Drop knees to the floor and raise eyes to the sky, for we know where our help comes from._

Oh, he knew so well where it came from. Every little thing, from the beginning to now. That he had not simply died after he'd gained his independence, that he had resources to spare and always would, that he had a system run on integrity that actually worked, for the most part, that he had expanded and become strong, stronger than anyone—all of it, all of it was thanks to God.

He was so wonderfully blessed, and now as he could feel tens of thousands coming together in God's name for his sake, he felt it more than ever. Even in these hard times, people still looked to the Lord for guidance.

_Unite these States again in devotion to You, and blur every dividing line. _

And there were so many dividing lines. Race, religion, income and a million other things threatened to tear him to pieces, but he was still whole, still one, proving that nothing was so strong it could destroy a house built on the foundation of the Lord. Even when a split had formed, it had been repaired, smoothed over and now he could hardly see the scar it left behind. If he could just blur the line a little more, rub out all of the lines that divided his states, all his people…

Because he wasn't a bunch of little countries, he wasn't just a mix of states, he was _One Nation, Under God,_ and as long as it stayed that way he was indivisible.

_Do not give us over to our sins. Give us, instead, over to passionate prayer that moves Your heart. _

"_May Your unfailing love rest upon us, O Lord, even as we put our hope in You."_

So much hope, the optimism he'd held since the beginning only grew even as the future seemed to dim in front of him. It felt like he was walking down a tunnel that steadily got dark, darker and darker, but at the end there was a pinpoint of light that lets him stride forward, forever seeing the hope presented to him by God. Even in the very depths of the darkness he remained resolutely facing forward, for when he is at his weakest, that is when he is strongest.

This nation was blessed, blessed by God and loved more than he could imagine. America could feel himself healing somewhere, something was being fixed as his hands clasped together little tighter and a gentle smile moved over his lips. His people, who cared for his well-being so much, were joining together to heal him.

So for a much longer time he prayed for them, each person in his country, from his boss to the weakest of men on the streets. It was the least he could do for them, but even this small thing could have impact.

As far as he knew, it wasn't even May seventh anymore when he let out a resounding, happy sigh and closed his prayer.

_In the Name of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ_

_Amen._

**While this is written from an obviously Christian POV, the National Day of Prayer isn't for a specific religious sect-The intent is that anyone with a god/gods to pray to will be united in prayer for America. I wrote it with this slant though because 78% of Americans still consider themselves some kind of Christian, so it seems that's the sort of prayers America would be saying. Once again, not meant to offend, but if it did sorry. **_  
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